


Postlude to War

by sailorgreywolf



Series: Symphony of War [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorgreywolf/pseuds/sailorgreywolf





	Postlude to War

The night was pleasant, but all the window coverings were pulled shut to hide the light. If the bombers could see the light, they would likely aim for it. There had been relatively little damage done to Berlin by bombings so far. But, even with heavy bombing of British airfields, there was reason for fear. This, being the center of operations was of the highest importance. There was no question that it must be protected.

Austria felt physically sick; he had been feeling uneasy for years now. He knew the source of the feeling, it came from the destruction being levied across Europe. He had been in wars before, but this one felt different. Even the Great War had not felt like this. He was walking by himself through the halls trying to clear his head. He no longer had a place in the Reich. He was following blindly now, little more than a cog in this war machine. No one was telling him what the strategy for the war was anymore, they just gave him directives. Ludwig was using his ideology as his only guide and taking no input from anyone else. He hardly asked his brother for any advice either.

It was a mistake and even Austria could see that. Only a fool would ignore the fact that Prussia was a brilliant strategist and a skilled soldier; Ludwig should be going to his brother in all military matters. But, the reason he did not was all to clear, it had been so in the last war too. Germany wanted to prove that he could win his own wars without hanging onto Prussia's coattails.

Austria turned the corner and heard the sound of running water. He could have turned away, but his own curiosity got the better of him. The pounding in his chest told him that he should investigate. He walked towards the sound and soon found an open door. He glanced in, not daring to make a noise yet, not until he knew the situation. Prussia was leaning over the sink, ringing his hands in the running water. Steam was rising off the water. He was wearing an undershirt and pants; the top of his uniform was discarded in a different part of the room. There was a handgun lying on the counter with the silencer, apparently forgotten.

Austria wasn't sure what he was seeing, but it shook him. This was not normal behavior for anyone, let alone Prussia. The details were the most disconcerting. The top to the uniform was crumpled and discarded, it was not like Prussia to treat the trappings of the military so carelessly. To him, the grandeur of the military had always held more important than anything. It was that institution that had made him great. There was nothing visible on the white hands, and yet Prussia continued to rub his hands together under what appeared to be scalding water as though he was trying to remove a stain deep in the skin. As Austria watched, still not sure if he should speak, Prussia jerked the handles to the off position and the water stopped. In a gesture that looked almost completely uncontrolled, the albino ran both of his hands through his hair, wetting the hair.

Austria could no longer restrain himself, "Gilbert." As soon as he said the name, Prussia's immediately turned towards him. His eyes were rabid, enough so that Austria took a step backwards. But, the look of a cornered beast lasted for only a second before Prussia visibly composed himself. Still, it was easy to see that Prussia was not himself. His white hair had fallen into disarray and was plastered to his forehead with water. It was not like him to look so messy.

He said, without making any attempt to fix his appearance, "What are you doing here, Roderich?" Austria would not answer that question. He could see that it was attempt to dodge the real issue at hand.  
He countered with his own question, "What is going on? You don't look well." Prussia turned and grabbed his uniform and pulled it on loosely over his shirt. He didn't bother to button it though.  
He responded with an answer that was intentionally short, "We're now at war with the Soviet Union."

It was clipped, terse even. But, the voice sounded hollow. He then walked past Austria out into the hall, as though this response ended the conversation. However, Austria would not let it go. The news should be surprising, but given the venom that Hitler had been spewing at communism since the Reichstag fire it was not. It had been clear that the alliance with the Soviet Union would end in disaster. Even so, actually moving against the Soviet Union was a dangerous step. Something clicked in his mind, making the situation clear: There had been a gun on the counter.

He was too shocked by the idea to withhold the realization, "Did you do it?" Prussia immediately stopped and turned around, his eyes full of fire.  
He advanced with an imitation of his usual aggression but without the real fire, speaking as he did so, "Yes, I did. I shot that communist bastard." He stopped, and his voice faltered, "I-I shot Ivan."

As before, the lack of control lasted for only a moment. Once he realized his weakness, Prussia reeled himself in again. Without another word, he turned and walked away again. Austria stood there, still trying to figure out what this meant. The Soviet Union was strong and, moreover, Russia was very hard to conquer. Even if the enmity made sense on an ideological level, this decision was not strategic. Austria still had the mind of an empire and could see how ill-advised this decision was. But, there was a layer that was even more troubling. Prussia had signed the non-aggression pact personally. Germany had sent him for his skill in diplomacy, but that did mean that Gilbert's name was on the document. This made a direct betrayal all the worse.

Broken out of his thoughts by the realization that he was alone, Austria ran after the other, his running steps ringing out in the silence. He reached an empty room, where he found Prussia standing at a window looking out, the curtain thrown open carelessly. He was looking out at the street, but turned his head at the sound of Austria's footsteps. He was about to speak, but Prussia cut him off, "Leave me in peace, Roderich."

Austria was glad that he was one of the few people who could easily ignore the albino's orders. He would not let this be. He walked over so that he was standing across from Prussia. He said, attempting to sound commanding, "I will not. You are going to tell me what's really going on."  
The albino's face was hard and expressionless when he said, "There is nothing more to tell. I made our intentions clear to Ivan. I leave for Könnigsburg in the morning to finish what I started."

The news was again, surprising. If there was to be victory, then sending Prussia to lead was the smartest thing to do. But, there was only a small chance of victory. Both of them knew it, they had observed and participated in enough wars. This was no less a fool's errand than Napoleon's crusade into Russia. Austria responded, "You do know that the Soviet Union will not fall like France, don't you?"  
Prussia looked away again, as though hiding his expression as he said, "I am amazed by your lack of faith. You should know better than anyone that usual odds don't apply to me."

It was confidence spoken, but it was not confidence felt. The voice behind the words did not have strength. They were a smoke screen, and a remarkably poor one at that. Austria still would not let this go. He responded, pressing on even though he could see that the other was reluctant, "You already know this isn't a campaign you can win." All he got in response was a noncommittal gesture, so he continued, "You must know that."

Prussia finally snapped back, "Yes I know! Why do you think I am going myself?" This response, by far the most characteristic thing that Prussia had yet done, was more puzzling than anything. But, Austria didn't need to ask for clarification. Now that he had unleashed the truth, it flowed freely. Prussia continued, his volume finally picking up, "I will not let Ludwig face Ivan! I will not let him face Ivan's rage." He turned and started to walk away again, as though this was the end of the conversation. As he walked away, Prussia said, almost under his breathe, "You didn't see the way he looked at me."

Again, Austria needed to physically pursue the conversation. He turned and walked with the albino. He said, trying not to give away what he was feeling, "What about you, Gil?" He had emotions warring inside his head. He still held affection for Prussia, even though he had started to suspect that he had only been seduced for his support. The night of the Anschluss had been the only one that they had spent together, but it was special to Austria all the same. But, he stopped short of expressing the affection he felt for Prussia. That would cross the carefully constructed borders between them. The last time he had allowed intimacy, it had hurt him. He was hesitant to hurt himself again.

Prussia stopped walking again and scoffed, "What about me?"  
Austria finished his own question, incredulous that the other could dismiss the subject so lightly, "Don't you see, you idiot? You will be in the same danger." He wanted to say more, but he stopped himself. It was foolish to go further. He couldn't express his affection. There was no chance that it would be returned.

The expression on the albino's face was completely unreadable, but there was something broken in the back of the red eyes. He said, his voice resolute, "Why does that matter? I will do whatever I have to, never mind the consequences."  
Austria took a step forward and, mustering all the aggression he could, said, "Has it occurred to you that people care about you, too?"

To this, Prussia responded again with a scoff. He appeared to be attempting for a defiant sneer, but the resultant expression was a hollow echo. It quickly faded as he spoke, giving way to the emotion beneath it. He said, "Ludwig approves of me going, so he clearly has the faith you lack."  
Austria responded at once, knowing the counter to only be half true, "He has a child's faith in you. You raised him to believe you can do anything." The words rang true. Austria had seen the way the young boy had eagerly followed his brother. He had watched Germany's own awe at his brother's triumphs.

Prussia recoiled immediately. Again, it was comforting to see actual emotion. Seeing Prussia's normal reactions gave Austria faith that he could break through this act and actually talk to the man he knew. The war put stress on all of them, but there was something profoundly different about the albino in this moment. It was haunting to hear the answers delivered only as diversions. Prussia could not usually hide what he was feeling. But, the fire was not dead in him.

Before Prussia could say anything, Austria continued, "But I didn't mean him."  
A look of realization appeared on the albino's face as he finally understood what Austria was trying to say. For a moment, Austria hoped that this would soften to acceptance, but that was immediately dashed when Prussia responded, "You already got what you wanted. Stop badgering me."

Again, he turned as though he was going to storm off. This time Austria kept his feet firmly planted and spoke again, hoping that his words could bring the albino back, "Do you really think I only wanted sex?" He knew that Prussia was referring to the single night they had spent together, and he was repulsed by the thought that he only wanted that sort of crass interaction. Lust was no substitute for affection, and certainly a single night was not enough. He felt all their history together coming back to him, all those years of fighting. But there was more than that, there were moments of camaraderie that were invaluable. There was even affection before these wars. They had fought together before, against countries and ideas. It was impossible to compress all of those centuries of feeling into a simple lust. There was so much more emotion under the surface. It was impossible to put their relationship into a single word that would accurately express it.

Prussia turned back towards him, and said with a bitterness that was palpable, "Have you ever wanted anything else?" Austria stood his ground, completely willing to defend his own affection.  
He said, his own voice softening to counter the hard tone of the other, "No, I want you."  
It was a short, honest answer, but it was what he had been failing to say through two straight wars. In truth, even longer.

But now was different. If Prussia was going to take on the Soviet Union head on after such a brazen betrayal, then there was a possibility that this would be the last time they saw each other. They both knew that this war was different than any that had occurred in Europe before and the stakes were far higher. Even countries wouldn't be safe when the judgment came down at the end, and Austria had a sneaking suspicion that Germany would not triumph.

To make his point even more clearly, he grabbed Prussia by both sides of his open uniform and pulled him forward. Without even waiting for a reaction, Austria smashed his lips against Prussia's. He would not wait for Prussia to make the moves anymore. He had waited too long now. He expected the albino to push him away, but he didn't feel any resistance. However, Austria pulled away after only a short moment. He wouldn't let himself be seduced and manipulated this time. Instead, he was going to take control. When he pulled away, he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "How can you not know that?"

Prussia's eyes had softened substantially, the red melting. He replied, "Roderich, don't-"  
Austria interrupted so that Prussia could not finish what was likely to be a denial, "If you are so dead set on this suicide mission, then I can't stop you. But come to bed with me tonight." Again, he expected the other to pull away with a sneer and a cruel remark. Instead, Prussia put his hand on Austria's shoulder. It was a soft gesture, not one of hostility.

The albino spoke with the first real emotion. It was immediately clear how flat his voice had been. He said, "You disprove that you want sex by asking me to have sex with me?" It was familiarly cynical. This was the quick wit that Prussia had always had. Austria felt a smile appear on his face, comforted by the familiarity even though the criticism was directed at him.  
He corrected himself, "That's not what I meant. I just want to have you with me tonight. Just come and lie with me. It doesn't have to be anything other than that."

He did not stop himself, not this time. This time he was not going to let Prussia seduce him, use him, and leave him. He still expected the albino to pull away, to deny him. Even when both of them had nothing left to risk, he did not expect Prussia to oblige him. The red eyes pierced straight through him, regaining their power. Prussia spoke, "I suppose the East is cold and I will miss the warmth of another person. You can keep me company tonight."

He put his other hand on Austria's other shoulder. There was strength in his hands, and it was reflected in the albino's red eyes. It was not the same strength that he had had when he was an empire, but it was determination. That had to be enough for now though. Austria put his own hand on top of the albino's and was about to speak, but Prussia stopped him, "Don't think that this means anything."

Austria bit back the words he had intended to say. He had pushed his own nature as far towards clarity as he could, and now his honesty was vanishing. He responded, "I don't want you to leave without one night." He stopped short of what he was really longing to ask for. It was too much to say, and it was impossible to find the words to properly express it anyway. Instead, Austria took a hold of the edge of Prussia's uniform and slowly urged off the fabric, leaving Prussia in the state of partial undress that he had found him in. Somehow, it seemed to suit him better. If Austria was being completely honest, he had always noticed something off about the black uniform. It fit perfectly and Prussia did look handsome. But, it all seemed to speak of contrivance. It was strange to see him give up his usual blue for the harsh black. At least the iron cross remained, the last symbol of the empire that Prussia had been.

Austria moved one hand to touch the cross, but Prussia stopped him by pulling away. He said, sharp again, "What are you doing, Roderich?" Austria scrambled to explain the actions that had taken very little rational thought. In truth, he had been trying to return Prussia to the man he had been, a man of both cunning and honor. But, those were dangerous words to speak, to remind Prussia of how far he had fallen from grace.  
Instead, the Austrian folded the uniform over his arm and said evasively, "It isn't like you."

He did not know how the albino would interpret the comment, but he left it open enough to simply mean the treatment of the uniform. A shadow of a smirk passed over Prussia's face. He spoke, and the levity in his voice sounded forced, "What would you know about me, Roddy?" Austria winced, even though he could see that the comment was little more than facade. And yet, the words still stung. He attempted a smile, but it felt forced.  
Prussia broke the tension in the room by turning and saying, "I believe you know where my bedroom is." As he walked away, there was still something restrained in all the movements.

Austria could have followed him, but he hung back for a moment and ran his hand slowly over the uniform he had taken from the albino. The full truth of how wrong this all was was dawning on him. It was all encapsulated in this one garment. Germany wanted to be his brother so fervently, but he hadn't understood the subtly of Prussia's success. Now it was clear: Even Prussia was withdrawing into himself, becoming nothing but a soldier following orders. The brilliance of Prussia's strategic mind had been buried beneath layers of obedience.

Austria forced his mind away from the question of how this would all end. He didn't want to think of how justice would be meted out at the end of this all, especially with the Soviet Union officially among their enemies. For tonight, he couldn't consider that. But, he did wonder if the same thoughts were weighing on Prussia's mind. Did his own guilt and mortality haunt him? Was that part of the reason his manner had become so distant? It was hard to say, but as Austria absentmindedly smoothed the uniform and draped it over a chair, his own mind would let him have no peace.

The feeling of deep sickness returned to his stomach. They were all sick, stuck in this madness that they created. It couldn't all be blamed on Germany, even if that would be easier. Austria had agreed to this without raising so much as an objection, without ever saying a single word to Germany. Who was he to judge it now that they were all soaked in blood? Finally, Austria took his hand off the fabric of the uniform.

He had been lost in these thoughts too often. Perhaps Prussia's terse obedience was better than trying to understand. Whatever sense there had been in this had melted into sheer fanaticism long ago. He looked around the room, half in an attempt to ground himself. He realized how long it had been since Prussia had departed the room. Austria's own reflections had overwhelmed him, as they did almost habitually now. But, it was wrong to keep the albino waiting when the request had been Austria's. Austria left the jacket where it was and walked away towards the lover who still eluded him.

As he got closer to the room, he heard a sound that seemed to echo out of the past. It was the soft plucking of a violin. This was not distorted as recorded music was, it was the pure ringing of strings. It resonated through Austria's sternum, and straight through to his heart. The notes did not sound mournful, just overwhelmed by the deep muted night around them. Austria looked into the half closed door of Prussia's bedroom and realized where the sounds were emanating from. The albino was sitting on his bed with his violin in his lap. The instrument was in pristine condition, the varnish unscathed. Austria spoke, his voice soft, "I didn't know you still played."

He wasn't entirely sure why, but this sight was throughly impressive. He had taught the albino how to play when they had still been friends, before war and territorial ambitions had torn them apart. How long had it been since Austria had heard those calloused white fingers making music? Prussia responded without even looking up, "I don't. This thing doesn't sound right on its own. I was just thinking…"

He trailed off, leaving it a mystery what had possessed him to pick up the violin. Austria decided to sit on the other side of the bed before speaking again, "What would you like as accompaniment?" He half hoped that the other would invite him to play with him. One more duet as they both stood on this precipice.  
But, Prussia finally turned his head and said, "Like you don't know. Or should I say 'flute' to make it clear?"

The words struck deep in Austria, just as the music had. But, this had a different effect. He knew what Prussia was thinking about, or rather who he was thinking about. The albino confirmed this when he said, "The way they talk about Fritz, you'd think he was some myth. I know he was real and he was human." He paused for only a moment before saying, "And he was mine."

Austria could hear the strain in the voice. Something had shifted. Now Prussia was laid bare, far too raw. He was still not being honest, but the emotions were real. For a moment, Austria struggled with what to say before he decided on, "Ludwig told me you never told Hitler that you were Prussia. Is that true?"  
Prussia sighed and, as though giving up a tightly held secret, said, "They already took my symbols and made me into something I'm not. I didn't want to give them more to use."

Austria thought over the words for a moment, considering what they meant. His mind lighted upon the idea that, even though he wore the uniform, Prussia had never fully supported this cause. Had he done it all for Germany? But, before Austria got the chance to say anything, Prussia said, "But let's not talk about that." He put the violin carefully on a table before turning back to the bed. He said, a slight smile on his face, "Keep me company, Roddy."

Austria expected to be happy that his request was finally being echoed in the albino's voice, but he couldn't help but see it as another dodge. Prussia knew how to manipulate conversation and he was clearly steering this one away from the topics that made him uncomfortable. Normally, Austria would have fought him about it. But tonight, with the fatalistic weight of the Eastern front hanging over them, there was no point to it. Neither of them wanted to taint the night with the conflict that had characterized their relationship.

When Prussia laid down, still almost fully clothed, Austria decided to lay down next to him. He looked directly at the albino, willing him to make a move. The earlier confession could not have been forgotten so easily. Even with all his willpower focused on it, Austria was surprised when Prussia pulled him in. Their lips touched with a restrained passion that Austria couldn't quite believe. There was no antecedent, nothing in their conversation that had foreshadowed this.

He opened his eyes slightly, trying to figure out if this was another manipulation. This time he was not overwhelmed, or seduced like before. Prussia was not looking at him. Austria closed his eyes and attempted to let himself forget. But, he didn't feel the same dominance that Prussia had exerted over him last time. This touch felt like it was trying to coax him into dominance. The Austrian pulled away and said, his voice soft beyond his own control, "Are you still thinking about Friedrich?"

Prussia responded with another heavy sigh and turned on his back and looked up at the ceiling. For a moment, there was nothing but tense silence. Then Prussia said, his voice taking on the same smooth, emotionless tone as earlier, "I think that's the first time you've said his name. You always said, 'your king'."  
Austria echoed Prussia's sigh with his own. He hadn't meant the question to create such bitterness. All the same, he had to respond to it. It would not do to leave it hanging unanswered. Austria finally said, calculating every word, "I never forgave him."

The Prussian scoffed, "Why? Because he took Silesia from you?" Austria knew he could lie, say that that was the only reason he despised Friedrich II. But, he had to be honest now before he could no longer.  
He said, "Do you really think that after all these years I care about one province? He took you from me, and you were more important."

He wished that Prussia would at least look at him, but the red eyes were fixed on the ceiling. When the albino did speak, he did so to the ceiling, "Roderich, he didn't take me; he didn't seduce me. He just saw me as something precious. I wasn't my father's sins; I wasn't your burden." He stopped suddenly and a bitter laugh made its way from between his lips, "Listen to me, babbling like a poet. How absurd."

Again, they lapsed into silence. But, this time Austria knew what to do. He reached over and took a hold of Prussia's hand. He said, "Gil, let that go for tonight. I am still here." Austria reached over and put his hand under Prussia's chin and forced the albino to look at him. There was a strange distance in the red eyes, as though his thoughts were still far away in the past.

Austria pressed his lips against the other's softly. He felt the albino slowly decide that if this was going to be the situation, he was going to take dominance. Austria felt Prussia's hands on his body, but they were still hesitant. Prussia pulled away again, but this time he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Austria. He spoke, "Can you promise me something?"

Feeling suddenly empowered, Austria reached out and touched Prussia's face lightly. He replied, "Of course, Gil." Doubt flashed across Prussia's face again, emotion breaking through all facade.  
He said, "If Ivan compromises me somehow, will you look after Ludwig?"

There it was in his eyes again: concern for Germany. The pure love of a brother hadn't faded as the war pressed on, even with what Germany had done, even though Germany had created this hopeless war with only complete dominance or complete destruction as the possible outcomes. Austria didn't hesitate for a moment in his response, "I will do what I can for him."

He wasn't that close to Germany, but that didn't matter. If Prussia was asking him, then there was no way he was going to deny it. Whatever thought would sustain Prussia in the bitter cold of the East Austria would gladly nurture. If he needed to, then he would keep his promise. Prussia nodded, although it appeared to only be a gesture to comfort himself.

For another moment, Austria waited in silence and wondered at the thoughts keeping Prussia uncharacteristically silent. His eyes still looked lost, like they were hoping for an answer, a guarantee that Austria couldn't possibly give. Not since they had both been children had Austria seen fear stir in albino, even when he faced the real prospect of death in the Seven Years War and the Napoleonic Wars. It could not be himself he feared for, not with the way he was throwing himself into danger. After a few moment of pensive silence, Prussia said, "Thank you for that, Roderich. I don't want him to be alone without me."

The way his voice softened made Austria feel strangely uncomfortable with the way the albino's hands were still touching him. This had all been a hollow gesture, grasping at the last inklings of affection before everything slipped away. Did either of them really mean this? It was hard to say with certainty, but in this moment it no longer felt right. Austria sighed to himself, realizing that he should have known better. He should have known that they were both trying to fill longings for other passions. Instead of trying to continue the farce, Austria put his arms carefully around the albino and pulled himself closer. He found a spot to nestle his head firmly in the crook of Prussia's neck.

It was strangely more comfortable. He felt Prussia slowly return the embrace, putting his arms around Austria with an almost delicate caring. One hand was softly placed in his soft black hair. Warmth, pleasant and radiating, began to rise in Austria's chest, replacing the ever present feeling of sickness. He spoke softly, not caring what he was saying, "Do you remember the first time we met? We laid together like this."

He heard Prussia let out a small laugh, that sounded more genuine than anything the albino had said thus far. Then he said, "I thought you'd forgotten. I remember how strange I thought you were when you bragged about how well you played lute." He paused for a moment before adding, "You haven't changed."

It could have been meant as a dig, but Austria felt himself warm at it anyway. He had always been fond of music, even as a young man. He responded in kind, "I didn't know what to make of you. I thought you were too brash and brutish. You haven't changed either." Again, Prussia laughed softly, but he didn't speak again.  
So, Austria said, "But I remember that we laid like this and looked at the stars."

He stopped speaking for a moment, trying to formulate what he wanted to say. The nostalgia was soft and comforting. It was helping them both to forget the present, but it could only last if they both kept talking. Prussia responded, speaking slowly as though he was telling a secret, "I remember that night." He left it at that, and Austria looked up to see the expression on the albino's face. It was a slight smile, one that spoke of amusement.

But it faded as the moment dissipated in the cold night air. Finally, Prussia said, "Pity we ended up here, isn't it?" The other sighed and nested himself more firmly against the albino. He did not want to think about their long history of antagonism. He just wanted to lose himself in the body heat and Prussia's subtle scent. But, he felt obliged to give an answer.  
Austria said, "Don't dwell on it. For tonight, it's just us."

He tightened his arms around the albino, hoping to communicate everything he was feeling. There was no reason to dwell when the point of the night was to find solace. There was far too much weighing on Prussia's mind, and this was the only way to try and alleviate it. After a couple more agonizing minutes of silence, Prussia's arms tightened around the Austrian. Prussia said, "Be good to Ludwig. He will need someone."

Austria had known the war was lost long before he had been captured by the Allies; he had known it when Stalingrad had fallen. When the Allies came for him, he hadn't put up a fight. He refused to go down fighting for an ideology he did not believe in. He was sitting in a spartan, but not unpleasant, room feeling relatively relieved that this destructive war was over. He would be punished, but that didn't scare him. He deserved the punishment for taking part in this crusade of wanton death.

He looked up at nothing in particular on the ceiling, a waltz from a different time playing in his head. He could close his eyes and remember where he knew the song from. It had been that night, the one that he had agreed to be part of the Reich. It had been playing when Prussia had seduced him and it came back to him now. Austria's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to his comfortable cell opening.

He opened his eyes and looked at the intruder into his space. America entered the room, followed by Germany, who was looking down at the floor as he walked. The American said, apparently trying to break the silence, "I don't think you two need any introduction." The German finally looked up, his eyes showing a level of hope that seemed disproportionate. When his eyes found Austria, his face fell again. Apparently dejected, the German shuffled over to sit next to Austria. His hands were bound, unlike Austria's, and he was staring at them blankly. The handcuffs suggested that he had fought back when he was captured. All things considered, Germany looked relatively unharmed. He had some bruises, but that was very little considering he had fallen to military conquest.

Once America closed the door, Austria said, "Who were you expecting?"  
The answer he got was cold and terse, "My brother. I haven't seen Gil in days." The words caused a chill to shoot down Austria's back. He had not seen Prussia since the albino had left for the Eastern front, and he had assumed that he had been captured at the fall of Stalingrad. But Germany's words confirmed otherwise, and this was all the more terrifying. Even secluded here, he had heard about Russia's rage. That rage could easily be turned again Prussia's person.

Trying not to let on about the dismay he felt at the news, Austria said, "Did he return to Berlin?" Germany nodded, but bit his eyes remained on the floor. He also didn't bother to actually speak. How very like his brother Austria thought. But, Austria couldn't let that be the only information he had. Alone in Vienna, he had often wondered how Prussia fared on the Eastern front. He had assumed that the fall of Stalingrad had been Prussia's undoing.

He said, "Ludwig, what happened? I haven't had any news in months." Germany clenched both of his hands into fists. Austria glanced over and realized that the other's jaw was clenched tight, trying to hold in emotions.  
He spoke in an intentionally slow, measured way, "He came back and he was...different. He said he would defend Berlin to his last breath."

He paused for a moment and then his stern facade seemed to break. He said, "What if he did? It is his capital." It took a moment for Austria to understand what Germany was asking. He feared that his brother was dead. Austria could not say it was not a possibility; he knew that Prussia was stubborn and Russia's rage was insatiable.  
But, he had made a promise to Gilbert on the last night they had spent together, so he said, "You will see him again. He will fight to the end; that's who he is. He might still be out there."

He was speaking in absolutes, but there was no way to know. Germany was on the very edge of breaking down though, and without any comfort he would crumble. If he knew it was acceptable, Austria would have put an arm around the blonde. Germany spoke under his breath, as though he was not really speaking to anyone else, "I told him to betray Russia. I told him to go East. If anything happens, it will be my fault."

Austria threw his better judgment aside and put an arm around Germany. He felt that there was a small shiver going through the man. It was hard to say if it was fear or just guilt that was wracking Germany. Austria searched for words of comfort, but they were difficult. Finally they materialized on the tip of his tongue, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened again.

This time, America entered by himself. His blue eyes scoured over both of them before he finally said, "Do whatever you have to to get ready. We are going to sentence you in an hour." The words seemed to imply that the war was over and the capital had surrendered. But, if that was true Prussia had been subdued or worse. Austria let out a shaky breath as the words hit him.

He kept silent, but Germany did not. The blonde immediately said, "You can't! Not without my brother." America ran his hand through his hair.  
He looked frustrated, and it became clear why when he said, "I wish I had gotten to him first, but I just got a call from Ivan. He has Prussia in his custody."

Both of them understood what that meant; Russia had a victim for his violent vengeance. Again, Austria could not muster words to throw at the country that had defeated him. But, Germany did not hold back, "How dare he? If he lays a single finger on Gilbert, I'll-"

America cut him off, "You can't threaten Ivan! I can't even threaten that communist bastard and I have nukes. But I promise you this: He will not have Prussia! I will not give that Soviet pig that military advantage." He gesticulated violently as he talked, as though he was giving a grand moving speech to a large still had the grandeur of a young country, but he had proven himself capable of actually fighting and winning. Still, it was hard to believe his promise. Germany's jaw was again clenched hard. With one more sweeping gesture, America said, "I will deal with Ivan. You just need to brace yourselves."

Austria was seated next to Germany as the hearing commenced, but the chair next to them was still ominously empty. Austria pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted his cuffs out of nervous habit. There was nothing else he could do to comfort himself, even if he wanted to. The longer they had to wait for Russia, the more anxious he got. There was no way to tell if Prussia was even alive, or if it was just an elaborate plot to make them all suffer. Austria couldn't help but wonder if his own heart was beating more frantically than Germany's. They both had reason to be worried, but it came from entirely different feelings.

The doors to the room were thrown open and Austria immediately craned his neck to look. Prussia entered the room first, with Russia right behind him. He turned his head slightly to look at where Austria and Germany were sitting. It was clear that there was a dark purple bruise across one side of his face, as though that side of had been hit quite hard. Austria tried not to let his mind wonder what else could have possibly caused that bruise. There was more than one reason for Russia to force the albino's face against a flat surface. The way that Russia was looking at him was not helping Austria's imagination. Russia's eyes looked like they could see straight through the uniform. It was sickening.

Germany's eyes were still fixed blankly forward. He had not even turned to look at his brother. Austria leaned over and said, "Gilbert's here, Ludwig. He doesn't look good either." Germany immediately jerked his head around and looked at Prussia. A very slight smile appeared on the blonde's face and Austria could tell it was one of relief. Russia said something to the albino and the way his lips brushed Prussia's ear made the taste of vomit rise in Austria's throat. He recognized the fear that flashed over the red eyes. He could only guess at what Russia had just said.

As Prussia sat, Austria looked him over, attempting to ascertain what kind of damage Russia had done so far. There were dark bruises peeking out from under his cuffs, like handcuffs had been tight against his wrists. But, other than being slightly thinner, he looked well. Austria felt a small echo of comfort in it. As Prussia spoke to his brother, Austria let himself feel relieved. America had said that he would keep Prussia out of Russia's hands, and with that guarantee Austria would not have to keep his promise.

But, as England spoke, there was an uneasy feeling in the air. Russia was wearing a calm confident smile that would not let Austria have any certainty. There was some plan at work that only the Russian knew. With a flair bordering on dramatic, Russia leaned over and opened his mouth like he was about to speak. Austria's heart jumped into his throat. Something terrible seemed just on the horizon.

On some strange cue, Prussia stood. He spoke with a clear ringing voice, " I volunteer myself to be the Soviet occupied zone."  
Austria couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would Prussia throw himself so recklessly at Russia? Unable to restrain himself, Austria said, "Are you mad?"

He meant the question to break Prussia out of whatever idiocy he was thinking. But, Prussia didn't even react. He just kept his eyes on Russia, whose smirk had widened into a triumphant smile. The decision was made quickly, and the trial ended even more quickly. Austria was still reeling from the shock of Prussia's offer by the time it was all over. Only when Russia spoke directly to him did the full reality of the situation.

Russia's voice was cloyingly sweet when he said, "Roderich, show some decency and leave the pair of them alone." Knowing that the brother's needed a moment together, Austria stood. It was tactful, but he wanted his own moment to speak to Prussia. He needed to affirm that he would look after Germany, just as he had promised. Prussia needed that affirmation before he was swept away behind the iron curtain.

Austria had no choice though; he had to follow Russia out of the room. As soon as they were out of the room, Russia turned on him with a sadistic smile, "Doesn't Gil look beautiful?" Responding would be taking the bait, but Austria would not allow himself to be taunted either.  
He said, letting his own anger out, "How dare you? Your brutalizing is horribly ugly."

The Russian let out a slight laugh, "Watch your tongue, Nazi. I own part of you now too, and I will punish you for lip. I disagree with you: Gil looks so inviting when he's so weakened and desperate."  
Austria reacted, completely disregarding Russia's threat. He would not let anyone speak about Prussia like that, "I don't know what you have planned, but he isn't some prize of war."

Russia's smile was cold and completely unyielding. It was making Austria's stomach flip in reaction to the sickness it communicated. The madness was so obvious and so unnerving in the Russian's violet eyes. He spoke and there was joy in it, "Oh I will tell you what I have planned: I'm going to break him open and make his blood and iron my own. He's an obedient soldier and he is going to serve me well." He paused for a moment before fixing his taunting eyes on the other's and saying with a sneer, "And I'll keep him in my own bed."

Austria growled, a rare rage rising in him. He spoke without the deference he should be showing considering the politics, "You won't break him. You're too used to those Baltics."  
Russia seemed to be enjoying his reactions, and continued to antagonize him, "I've already gotten him to offer himself to me, the rest will come in time. So, I hope you enjoyed the last time he fucked you because he's never going to touch you again."

With that, Austria was reduced to silence. There was nothing he could possibly say to express his contempt for Russia. He kept his mouth resolutely shut, but he seethed. Russia added with a falsely innocent smile, "I think Gil's had enough time with his brother. I will be checking on your progress soon." He turned and walked back into the room, leaving Austria grappling with himself. He wished he could fight, do anything to change the situation. But, right now he was going to keep quiet. It would be completely futile. But, he refused to accept this. He would get Prussia back, no matter what Russia did. Even if it took decades, he would do it.


End file.
